


Pointers in Indulgence

by sesquipedalianMarquis



Series: The Meraad Chronicles [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Tabletop RPG), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Sexual Content, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Making Out, Nipple Piercings, No Aftercare, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Qunari Culture and Customs, Tal-Vashoth, Unresolved, Unresolved Emotional Tension, is it size kink if both of them are seven foot tall?, spectacular fellatio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 06:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesquipedalianMarquis/pseuds/sesquipedalianMarquis
Summary: The direct, NSFW follow-up to Sundew! In which Kasaanda gets into Meraad's pants. It's a resounding success.(Two Tal-Vashoth fuck. That's it, that's the plot.)





	Pointers in Indulgence

Meraad shadows you all the way to your room. He doesn’t say anything, but once you lock your door and turn to face him, you can see anticipation thrum through him. He’s just standing there, looking at you, waiting, but there’s tension in the lines of his body. You take a step right into his space.

“Have you fucked anyone but a tamassran?” You could just fuck him without asking that, but hey, you like knowing.

The look in his eyes tells you he thinks he’ll be judged on his answer. Still:  
“No. I haven’t been out for long.” You like honest men. Makes it a lot easier.

“Mm. I’ll be your first, then.” He gives you a skittish look for that, but doesn’t move away when you place your arms on his chest. He’s warm against your palms through the rough weave of his shirt.

“Pointers on indulgence?” he prompts. His eyes flicker down to your hands, then back to your face.

“Kiss me.” You tip your head, part your lips. And he closes the gap, his lips on yours. He’s slow about it, like he’s not sure what he’s allowed, but you can work with that. You nip at his bottom lip, and he startles a little, but he bites you back, and yeah, there you go, give and take. Meraad’s a quick study. You pull back, just a little.

“Now, the thing with being out here is,” you say, and his eyes are on your lips like he’s starving and you’re a feast, “a guy as big as you has to take care. Y’know. When you’re fucking humans, or elves, you gotta be careful, because they’re small. They startle easy, they break easy. Keep it in mind, for the future. But me, now? I don’t break easy. In fact, I don’t break at all.”

There’s a hitch to his breathing when you whisper the last lines to him. Nice. But he’s still not touching you.

“Put your hands on me. I’m not a tamassran, I get to have my itch scratched too.” He lifts his hands to your waist, and you regretfully let go of his chest to grab his wrists and drag his palms onto your ass. The soft leather of your breeches leaves nothing to the imagination. Your ass is spectacular. And because you’re a firm believer in give and take, you feel up his chest. He’s a bulwark, all solid and broad, and squeezes your butt gently when you squeeze his pec.

“C’mon, grab me proper,” you goad, and oh yes, he does, digs his sword-worn fingers into the meat of your ass all firm and possessive. You plaster yourself to his front, chest to chest, link your hands behind his neck and kiss him again. He’s getting the hang of it; when you go for a deeper kiss, he yields into it. It’s a nice contrast, his hands so firm, but him giving against your lips like soft butter.

He takes one hand off your ass, which is a tragedy, but then he’s running it through your hair instead, and yeah, you can appreciate the initiative. You stop swapping spit for a bit and press kisses to his handsome jawline instead. His stubble is all prickly, but it’s worth it for the way he swallows heavily when you get to his neck.

“I’ll bite,” you warn, whisper it against his skin, and his answering yeah is all breathy just the way you like it. You press your teeth to the side of his neck and his hand tightens in your hair, which is nice, and his other hand grabs your ass more firmly, which is _nice_. His skin is dark enough that it doesn’t show little red marks, but the way it makes him fucking twitch when you nip at his skin is gratifying, and you could probably make hickeys show up with a bit of determination.

Now, while standing in the middle of the room is alright, it’s not really what you want. But Meraad is a smart man who’s good at taking orders, so when you push your palms to his shoulders to guide, he spins and steps backwards until his broad back hits the door with a quiet thud. Obedience personified. He yields so well for you.

“Shirt off,” you order. He takes a second to pull it over his horns, tosses it away and then you’re on him again like you’re paid for it, skin on skin where your vest falls open. You muscle one of your thighs between his legs and, Maker bless his fast learning, he grabs you by the ass again and pulls you against him. Oh yeah. He’s definitely interested in the proceedings here, firm against the line of your hip. You grab his intact horn and pull his face to yours, kiss him like you want to own him. He lets you, all pliant and open, and you ravish him with hot, open-mouthed kisses until you need to take a few seconds to just breathe. The way he pants a little, rocks his hips against yours in small motions, is pretty damn steamy. Your lips tingle from kissing him, and you want and want.

You lean in just enough that you’re almost kissing again, your lips just brushing his, and whisper.

“Want me to suck your cock?”

“Please,” falls from his lips like prayer, “yes,” and you take his lips in another bruising kiss. There’s no hitch in the intensity of it, all want. His fingers flex against your ass as you grind against him for just a sweet bit longer, then you’re pulling back, and he looks almost sad to not be kissing you any more. As he should be. You’re good at it. His irises are barely there, pupils blown wide, and you grin all wicked as you sink to your knees. He can’t suppress a shiver at the sight.

You take a second to undo the belts that hold your knives to your body and toss them aside. Meraad licks his lips when you adjust yourself in your pants, this little subconscious gesture that says _want_. You pull your hair behind your ears, smooth your palms up his thighs – big, powerful legs, and you want him to put those muscles to use and fuck you silly – and efficiently divest him of the rest of his clothing. He kicks his boots into the heap of your daggers, helps you shuck off his breeches and underthings, and hello there. Thank the Maker or the Qunari breeding programme or whomever for men with nice cocks. He’s really thick and gods, do you want to feel that inside you.

You lick a friendly stripe up the length of him to introduce yourself, and feel him twitch against your palm. When you tongue the tip, he lets his head fall back against the door with a thunk and exhales all slow. It’s always a heady feeling to have a guy at your mercy like that. You take him in proper, heavy on your tongue, and he curls one hand around the back of your skull, between your horns. If he pushed you, he’d regret it, but he doesn’t, just lets you suck him off, nice and easy.

And because you’re nothing if not proud of your skills – okay, an insufferable show-off – you take a deep breath and fucking go down. It makes Meraad curse, all _ah, vashedan, Kasaanda,_ and his head knocks against the door again. You swallow around him and he hisses a sharp breath, fingers curling against your scalp. The weight of him on your tongue is nice, and when you pull back for air and then swallow him down again, he actually moans, this soft, low sound that goes straight to your dick. You wonder what kind of noise he’d make if you fucked him, if he’d still be all quiet and breathy or loud. You wonder if you could make him wail if you nailed him right.

His thighs flex under your palm when you pull out the tricks, tease at the sensitive head of his cock. His fingers flex too, gentle against your scalp, one by one, and oh, the bastard. Of course. He’s doing the meditative thing the tamassrans want you to do when you’re visiting for more than a bit of relief. Can’t be mad, because he doesn’t know anything else, but it’s not what you’re going for here. You pull off his dick with a lewd noise, and he opens his eyes, looks down at you.

“I know you’re doing a canto in your head,” you tell him, and he has the grace to look a little uncomfortable. “You haven’t fucked outside a tamassran’s place before, I get it. But this isn’t about the same thing.” He looks confused now.

“Then... ?”

“This isn’t about relieving tension, or about sorting out your head. I’m not doing this to comfort you, Meraad.” You wait a second for him to come to the conclusion himself, but you’ve never been a patient man. “I’m having you because I enjoy it. Indulgence, remember? This is completely pointless fun, the only goal I have is feeling good. That’s how it works here in the South. It’s literally that simple. Just doing things you like, because you like them.”

He mulls that over in his head for a few breaths. Then,  
“Can I suck you off?” You grin at him like a shark, because you’d never turn down a blowjob, but he speaks up again. “I think I’d enjoy it.” Ah, he’s taking your words to heart. Good man. Wouldn’t’ve guessed that that’s his thing, but gift horses and all that.

“Yeah, big guy. You can.” You let go of his dick, which is sad, because you were getting real friendly with it, but you could stand some attention on yourself. He watches you cross over to the bed and undress, eyes heavy on you as you peel off your breeches. You even shrug off most of your jewellery, until all the two of you are wearing are his kadan necklace and your piercings. Ah, of course. That’s why his look is so intense now.

“Touch them, if you want.” You give him your sultriest come-hither look and sit on the side of the bed, legs spread. He follows you to the bed, gets on one knee in front of you, and you tug him into another possessive kiss. He’s into it, gives back as good as he gets now. And then he’s kissing along your jawline, the same way you did to him earlier.

“I’ll bite,” he murmurs against your skin, good man, asking permission.

“Yeah, bite,” and you gasp when he does like he means it, and you want to be wearing love-bites from this for days, “mark me, I want it.” And oh, he does, lays into you with a fervour. He finds the spot under your ear that makes you squirm, leaves at least three marks down your throat that will show up all nice on your bronze skin. One of his big, warm hands finds your waist, follows the line of your body up, too firm to tickle. And then his thumb brushes against the metal barbell through your nipple.

“So. These,” he breathes against the hollow of your throat, presses a kiss against your collarbone.

“Yeah. Fun perk of freedom, you get to do all kinds of crazy shit with your body. They feel good if you mess with them, just don’t yank.” The way his thumb brushes over it again, all fascinated, makes you want his hands all over you. “It’s pretty fucking sexy if you use your mouth.”

Meraad, bless whatever gods are listening, is a man of action who knows what to do with a set of instructions. He works his thumb over one, and you moan softly to encourage him. His stubble scratches when he moves his head down. You put a hand around the back of his neck, because oh yeah, he’s doing alright. His teeth click against the metal barbell, and then he’s working his tongue against you and you arch into it. The calluses on his hands work in his favour because the way it makes his fingers drag over your other nipple drives you wild.

He messes with your piercings until your moan is genuine, and you want his hands on your chest while he fucks you into the mattress with that nice, thick cock of his. You scratch your nails over his scalp and it makes him hum in pleasure against you. It makes you want to claw up his back while he’s fucking you. You shiver under his touch, and then he seems to remember he was actually after putting his mouth elsewhere.

“These are amazing,” he attests, and gives your pec a fond bite before he kisses his way down your stomach. You lean back on your hands and let him.

Now, what you were expecting was for him to have never sucked dick. You certainly hadn’t, when you left the Qun, and it had been a learning experience all around. What you were prepared for was to give him some pointers, remind him to mind his teeth, and get off with his heartfelt but ultimately poor to mediocre attempt at the high art of fellatio.

Holy shit, you were wrong. As a rule, you don’t like being wrong, but this is the mother of all exceptions.

Meraad licks you like you’re made of candy, with an enthusiasm that surprises you. And then he wraps his lips around you and does a thing with his tongue that should be illegal in at least three countries. And you thought you were showing off, but he breathes, relaxes and swallows your entire length down until his nose is almost against your stomach. Shit, you’re not sure you can feel your legs right now. You make a noise you refuse to call a whimper and he has the audacity to moan as he pulls back, a muffled, happy sound. The sound of a guy who’s incredibly content with what he’s doing.

And then he does it again, and you grab his horn and hang on while the man tries to suck your soul out through your dick. Void, you’d fuck his mouth if you weren’t sitting down. Your knees would shake if you weren’t sitting down. If this is how other dudes feel when you put your mouth on them, you should start charging. Meraad’s technique isn’t polished, he’s all sloppy and enthusiastic about it, but you’re not complaining. He digs his claws into your thighs and moans again, eyes closed, and you squirm in his grip.

He settles into a rhythm before long, and you flex into it. His mouth is fucking hot on you, and god damn, whoever manages to pull this guy in for the long term is a lucky bastard. You settle your weight back on your elbows and just feel. And moan, because fuck your neighbours, this guy’s sucking you off like he means it, and he deserves to know he’s doing good.

“You gonna keep this up ‘till I come?”

The look he gives you when he looks up is absolutely scorching. His lips are shiny with spit and you want to kiss him breathless.

“Yeah,” he says, and then he digs his hands under your thighs and oh, he wants your legs over his shoulders. Nice, broad shoulders. “Until you come down my throat.” Fuck, his voice is wrecked. He grabs your ass with both hands and swallows you down again to the root. It makes your toes curl. You grind your hips into it and he takes it, slides his tongue against the underside of your cock in a way that makes you twitch, and fuck, you’re close. With your hands free now, you grab him by the horn, other hand on the back of his head, heels pressing into his back, and you’re coming, gasping your way through it until you slump all boneless. He pulls off you with a lewd slurp and licks his lips. A bit smug, the fucker. You catch your breath while your thoughts catch up with your body.

“Wow.” Yep, still catching up.

“Thanks.” He kisses your thigh, once, twice. You return to the present.

“Didn’t think you’d be all for sucking cock. Had a tamassran who was aqun-athlok?” He seems to sober up a bit at the memory, but it’ll heal with time.

“No, actually. I got in one day and said I was stressed from being in charge, so she had me choke down a saartoh nehrappan. Until I could do it well enough. Something about submitting. Also overcoming challenges, I think.” And oh, his face changes, is that a wry grin you see? That’s actually pretty dashing on him. You’ll make a heartbreaker of him yet. “I liked it. And dare say I’m not bad at it.”

“Oh, don’t be modest, you’re fucking good.” You arrange your frankly kind of shaky legs back onto the bed, and he sits next to you, stretches out the leg he was kneeling with. Which probably aches a bit, after that.

“So. Now?”

“I’d ride you like a pony if we were cleaned up proper.” The way his eyes flicker to yours tell you just how interested he would be in that. “But we aren’t. So something else. Lie down, face me.” You reach over for oil from your nightstand and slick your thighs while he settles behind you. And really, you could just pass the oil off to him, but you appreciate a nice dick, so you reach around to slick him yourself. He leans into your touch, all grateful for it, and then you shove your hips backwards on the mattress.

“Put that dick between my thighs,” you instruct and he does, and the feeling is good, him all hot and hard between your legs. He has one hand on your hip, gets his hips flush against your ass. Because you’re a little shit, you flex your thighs, and he moans in surprise. You feel his cock twitch.

He leans his face into your neck again, too, and presses more kisses against your skin. Maybe he’s following the line of your tattoo, nuzzling from your neck down to your shoulder. It’s good, and then he rocks his hips into yours, and you wish you could get off again right now because this is doing things for you. There’s a nice, solid rhythm to his thrusts that you really want to feel inside you, so you close your eyes and imagine.

“You’re really hot,” Meraad whispers against your neck, and oh yeah, dirty talk along with this is the cherry on top. His voice still sounds very much like a guy who just got his throat fucked. “The way you looked with your mouth on me, Kasaanda,” and you flex your thighs again. He breaks off into a moan, has to collect his thoughts before he can continue. “You’re so fucking pretty with your mouth on my cock, with your pretty face and that look you have.” He’s rocking against you steadily now, pants against your neck. You arch against him, because there’s nothing like some fucking praise.

“Come,” you tell him, squeeze your thighs again and feel his hips jump. “Maybe I’ll have you again tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get all clean and let you suck me off again, fuck that mouth of yours, and then have you nail me into the mattress with that thick cock.” His hand tightens on your hips, and he just whispers yes against your neck. “You like that? Yeah, thought you might. I’d have you fuck me until this damn bed breaks.” His hips smack against yours with a force you want to feel inside you, and then he shudders and gives this broken little moan and spills between your legs.

The two of you pant together for a long minute, just coming down from the high. Meraad doesn’t move until you do, but once you pull away and let yourself flop on your front, he lies down on his back, takes a few deep breaths.

“That was good.”

“Inclined to agree.” You stand up to get a washcloth, wipe yourself down, and feel his eyes on you. Hear him sit up, then.

“What’s after?” he asks, and sounds honest-to-gods forlorn. Right. That.

“Some people like to cuddle afterwards. I don’t, though.” You wring out the washcloth and toss it to him. It hits him in the chest with a wet smack and he wipes himself off as well. “So yeah, you’re free to go. I’ll let you know about another round tomorrow.”

“Alright. Thanks, Kasaanda.” He’s picking up his clothes and putting them back on. You sit at the little table, still stark naked, snack on some sweets from your pack and ogle his butt while he pulls on his breeches and his boots. And then he leaves, and hits his head on the doorframe as he does. Tomorrow, then.

**Author's Note:**

> Kasaanda, you dick, you're awful at aftercare, bastard man.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment to feed the author?


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